


I Already Know

by hpdm4ever, MessiFangirl (hpdm4ever)



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Drabble, FC Barcelona, M/M, Rumors, Short One Shot, Transfer Season
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 07:18:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11573124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/pseuds/hpdm4ever, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/pseuds/MessiFangirl
Summary: Neymar looks over at where Paco is shouting something about Ivan being a cheat. “You haven’t asked me about leaving,” he says thickly, feeling Leo’s warmth beside him. The words nearly get stuck in his throat, but he plows on. “You haven’t asked me about staying either. You--you haven’t asked me anything.”Leo stretches out his feet, flexing his right ankle as if it’s irritating him. “Nope,” he says quietly.Neymar feels his headache grow, rubbing at his forehead and then trying to disguise it by pretending he’s fixing his hair. “Why not?” he asks, still staring out across the room instead of turning to look Leo in the eye.





	I Already Know

**Author's Note:**

> For anon: Could you write something about all the Neymar leaving rumors and Messi's reaction to it? Neymessi fluff or angst!!

“You haven’t asked me,” Neymar says, trying to be quiet. As it is, his voice is scratchy from shouting and laughing. But he’s finished playing around with Geri and Luis and has gone over to plop down on the sofa against the wall on the far side of the room. 

He’s suddenly tired of keeping up appearances. 

Leo’s, who’s been sitting there and fixated on his phone for the last hour or so, raises his head. “Asked you about what?” He blinks at Neymar curiously and then turns back to his phone, leaning back against the cushions and scratching his head aimlessly. He looks like he might fall asleep.

Neymar doesn’t laugh. “Are you trying to be funny again?”

“Don’t really have to try, do I?” Leo murmurs, yawning slightly. But then he shrugs. “But, no. What are you talking about?”

Neymar looks over at where Paco is shouting something about Ivan being a cheat. “You haven’t asked me about leaving,” he says thickly, feeling Leo’s warmth beside him. The words nearly get stuck in his throat, but he plows on. “You haven’t asked me about staying either. You--you haven’t asked me anything.”

Leo stretches out his feet, flexing his right ankle as if it’s irritating him. “Nope,” he says quietly. 

Neymar feels his headache grow, rubbing at his forehead and then trying to disguise it by pretending he’s fixing his hair. “Why not?” he asks, still staring out across the room instead of turning to look Leo in the eye. 

He’s afraid of what he’ll see.

Still, out of the corner of his eye, he sees Leo put his phone down on his stomach. 

“Don’t have to,” Leo says, voice still soft as ever. “I already know.” His hands fold over his chest and he slouches down a little more on the sofa. “I always know what you’re thinking. What you’re going to do.” 

Neymar turns to look at him now, astonished. “I barely know, myself,” he admits, truthfully, for the first time in days. “There’s so much... So many things... And people expect me to just--,” he whispers, unsure of what he wants to say. “I don’t know what I’m going to do!”

Leo has closed his eyes now. “I know,” he replies. “It’s okay. Don’t worry.”

Neymar takes a deep breath. “Will you tell me?” he asks, staring at the way Leo’s dark lashes are fluttering against his cheek. “What if I don’t choose the right thing? What if I make a mess out of it?” He slumps down next to Leo, closing his own eyes, feeling incredibly miserable. “I’ve already made a mess out of it,” Neymar murmurs. “It’s all fucked up.”

Leo’s breathing has evened out and Neymar’s not even sure Leo’s heard him.

But then there’s an arm around him. 

And Neymar’s eyes open in surprise.

“It’s alright, Ney,” Leo mumbles, eyes still closed. “I promise. Whatever you decide, it’s okay.” His fingers curl into Neymar’s shirt, pulling him closer until there’s barely any space between them. “Promise,” he mumbles, one more time.

Neymar should pull away. He should be thinking about what he’s going to do. About where he’s going to play. About what his dad wants. About what he wants. 

He shouldn’t be thinking about how he doesn’t ever want to move from Leo’s side. About how Leo’s arm feels around him. About how Leo’s so warm against him. 

About Leo.

Neymar closes his eyes again.


End file.
